


you and i will never be apart

by lostmemoria



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Smut but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmemoria/pseuds/lostmemoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 things Jordan likes about Lydia, and 1 thing he doesn't.</p><p>Or: 6 moments in Jordan and Lydia's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and i will never be apart

**Author's Note:**

> Small part of this fic was inspired by a headcanon by [Lana.](http://thefoxandthecoyote.tumblr.com)
> 
> title from lyrics from this wonderful song [(x)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGpF6fwLpUw)

**(5.) your eyes**

 

He fell in love with the green-eyed banshee.

The girl who had the whole universe in her eyes.  
  
The girl who tried her best to make it seem like everything was okay, when really it wasn’t, because she was broken and he could see it in her eyes, crystal clear. He always thought her eyes were green but then he realized they were actually a mixture of all the colors. Blues and greens and reds and yellows, because he could see the world reflected in them as he wiped away her tears and cupped her face in his warm, gentle hands, trying to shush her as she poured her heart and soul out to him.  
  
Her fingers dig into his uniform shirt as he held her close in his empty office at the station where no one could see them, where no one could find them.

It was wrong, inappropriate, Lydia was still seventeen—even if her birthday was only a few weeks away. But nothing could stop Jordan at that moment as he leaned in and brushed his lips across her eyelids in sweet butterfly kisses, hearing her suck in a breath as she stood still, and he knew she had never been handled so preciously, so gently before.

When Jordan pulled away slowly and her gaze met his, he realized that her eyes had seen too much. Too much pain, too much loss, and he badly wanted to take it all away, because seventeen year old girls shouldn’t ever have to experience the death of their best friend or their boyfriend or how everything around them seemed to die—  
  
“Shh,” he whispered into the inferno of her hair as she cried into his chest again. “There is so much darkness around you, but you are the light. A light in the darkness. Don’t let the darkness overshadow your brilliance.”

He knew it was the first time anyone ever said that to her, anyone that ever told her that she was the light, a life, instead of just an omen of death.  
  
And when Lydia looked back up at him after he said those words, he saw the small sparkle of hope in her eyes and he wanted to drown himself in it, lose himself in her eyes, because he fell for her.

Jordan fell hard and fast and all at once—with just one look into her eyes.

 

* * *

**  
(4.) your laugh**

 

  
They started dating after Lydia turned eighteen.

And the first thing he told her was to call him by his first name (since it was only appropriate, being a _couple_ now) and when it left her mouth for the very first time, Jordan couldn’t help but tell her how much he liked the way it sounded on her tongue.

She laughed.

And that was when her laugh became his new favorite sound.

If sarcasm was Stiles’ best defense, Jordan’s was charming chivalry and bad jokes and luckily that seemed like just enough to get him in Lydia’s good books on their first date. He took her to her favorite restaurant, a classy and expensive italian place about an hour away from Beacon Hills. He had everything planned: a nice dinner, a walk on the boardwalk of the beach, and ending it all with ice cream at one of the best ice cream parlors on the West Coast.

Things, however, went less than ideal.

His car broke down. It was at least a twenty five minute walk to the restaurant, their fingers laced together as they walked, Jordan clad in dark jeans and suit jacket, and Lydia—she took his breath away.

He had to literally tear his gaze away from her when he first picked her up, because she was dressed in a light pink chiffon dress, her dark red curls done up in a crown braid with a few wispy strands going loose and framing her face angelically. She wore a matching pair of high heels to go with the dress, and from as long as he’d known her, Jordan knew Lydia was probably the only person who could run for her life wearing six inch heels. But the road they were walking on was a little _too_ uneven because the strawberry blonde managed to stumble over her feet and nearly fall, that is unless Jordan hadn’t caught her by the waist. She clung to him, and he couldn’t hide his smile.

“Did I just witness _the_ Lydia Martin fall?”

He half expected her to throw him an icy look, but instead she smiled and let out a laugh, and it was music to his ears.  
  
“Tell anyone, and this will be our last date.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Maybe I should just carry you?”

Lydia snorted. “Not a chance.”  
  
They only walked for another few minutes before Lydia decided that _okay,_ maybe she was a little tired and bored of walking, making Jordan chuckle as he happily obliged, scooping her up in his arms easily and carrying her the rest of the way, telling her bad jokes that left her laughing hard not at the joke, but at his own silliness.  
  
And if he thought she was beautiful before, she was more beautiful like this. The way her eyes closed, crinkling, while a dimpled smile spread across her lips, cheeks turning red when she laughed a little too hard. Jordan always wanted to see her like this, always wanted to see her laugh and smile, always wanted to see her happy.

Because happy looked good on her—and after a while, Jordan realized it was all he needed. All he wanted.

For her to be happy.

And even after the waiter spilled water all over her dress, and the rain started to pour preventing them from taking a walk on the boardwalk, or when the ice cream parlor closed so they had to settle for frozen yogurt instead, Jordan didn’t expect to see the smile on her face when they stopped underneath the porchlight in front of her house at the end of the night.

“You’re not mad?” He asked, stunned.

She looked at him, slightly confused. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

Jordan gawked. “You’re joking right? That was probably the worst date in the history of worst dates.”

Lydia laughed. “You’re right. It was.” Yet, she was still smiling. “But it’s the only date in my history of dates, where someone tried so hard for me….And I’m not used to that, so thanks.”

It shocked him so much that he didn’t even know what to say, and he told her that.

She grinned. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

She pulled him closer to her and he hesitated, “What about your mother—?”

Lydia smirked. “She’s not home, and even if she was, she’s seen me kiss many guys before, so I’m sure she won’t mind a _deputy_.” And with that said, she pressed her lips against his and Jordan didn’t hesitate this time, his brain only telling him one thing and one thing only. 

_Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her._

And he did, cupping her face and reveling in the way her lips felt and tasted against his. He wanted to kiss her forever, hold her like this forever, but then she pulled away for air and Jordan rested his forehead against hers, their noses bumping.  
  
“I...think I can get used to that,” he said, catching his breath.

And Lydia laughed.

  


* * *

 

**(3.) your touch**

 

He never knew her as being the sentimental type.

Sure, there were times where she was fragile, vulnerable, and just wanted to be held in his arms when the pain was too much, but then two months passed between them being together, and he started to see it more and more.

The way she stayed up, waiting for him to come home from a late shift, and how she curled up close to him when Jordan finally slid into bed next to her a little after midnight.

“ _I missed you_ ,” Lydia whispered into his chest, and the first time she did it, he was surprised, because he was always the one saying it to her.

Because Jordan always missed her. Being away from her was too much—he missed the way she felt in his arms, the way her fingers twined perfectly in his, the way her lips felt against his mouth, his skin. He just missed _her._

And now, hearing her say it so genuinely back to him, it made his stomach flutter and sparks set off through his body, because he realized that she felt similar too.

The first time they made love was the day she went missing for two days. There was a whole search party looking for her, along with the rest of the pack, but Jordan was the one that found her. Sitting in front of Allison’s gravestone, soaked to the bone from the rain.

“Lydia!”

He called out to her, and at first she didn’t hear him because of the rain and the harsh wind and the sound of rolling thunder passing them by. But then he was running to her, by her side in a few moments as he wrapped his arms around her, ducking his head as a wave of lightning flashed through the sky. He didn’t ask her any questions of why she left or why she was here as he helped her into his car and he called everyone else, letting them know she was okay. His first thought was to take her to the hospital, and Lydia, seeming to have read his mind, clutched his arm and shook her head.

“Take me home.”

And at first, he thought she meant her house, but she shook her head again and said, “Your place. Please.”

Jordan didn’t argue with her and took her back to his apartment, and the whole way up the elevator, she clinged to him, trembling from the rain and he slid off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. When they finally got inside, he cranked up the heater and told her that he’ll run a hot bath for her, but as soon as he turned to leave, she wrapped her arms around his waist, preventing him from going.

She didn't say anything, just buried her face into his chest and Jordan instinctively brought his arms up around her waist, pulling her closer. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, "What's wrong? Are you okay, Lyds? Why did you leave…?" He didn't mean for the questions to come out of him so abruptly, but he couldn't help it. She had been missing for two days. He had panicked, much more than the pack at least, because they seemed to be used to having her go missing for long periods of time because of her banshee powers.

He had remembered yelling, frustrated with them just a few hours ago when Scott or Malia couldn't scent her out, nearly threw a fit, and Stiles noted how his eyes had flared orange as he stomped out of the loft, taking matters in his own hands.

He drove around for hours, looked through the Preserve, driving to the coast, until he finally found her at the cemetery, just as the storm was at its worse. _But now_ , now wasn't the time for him to panic. He stayed calm, in order to soothe her, to make sure she was okay. Because she was finally in his arms now, and that gave him some relief.

"I-I can't save anyone, J-Jordan," she said, sobbing into his shirt, "I can't save my e-ex b-boyfriend, I can't save my best friend, I couldn't e-even save that kid yesterday...I'm useless. I can't do anything, I can't---"

"Shh, baby, shh," he whispered, maneuvering them so that they were sitting on his bed, with her in his lap as he cradled her. "Don't say that. You're not useless. You're the light, remember? You're the voice for all these people who don't get to have their voice be heard. That kid that died yesterday? We found the license plate for the car that hit him...and we'll find the driver soon too. All because of you, because you were there first before anyone else was. You give these people justice, and I think that's amazing."

Her sobbing softened a little as she glanced up at him through tear stricken eyes. "But what's the whole point of having these powers if I can't control them?" She asked, frustrated.

"Death is inevitable, no one can control it," Jordan told her softly, "not even the smartest banshee I know." He flashed her a gentle smile and couldn't resist kissing her cheek.

A smile finally surfaced on her lips. " _I'm the only banshee you know._ "

"I know." He turned away from her cheek, only to find her lips so close to his, her bright hazel eyes flashing up at him, their warm breaths mixing together and before he knew it, she was pulling him down and kissing him.

It wasn’t like any kiss that they’ve had before, her fingers scraping into his scalp, making him shiver as his thumb caressed her cheek, the kiss turning more frantic, more urgent, more amazing as he felt her push him down on to his bed. When they pulled away for air, her once blue lips from the cold were now slowly regaining their color as she raked her hands down his chest before pulling up the hem of his shirt.

Her touch felt electrifying on his bare skin, making his breath hitch as she tried to slip his shirt over his head and he found himself grabbing her wrists gently, stopping her. He looked into her eyes. “...Is this what you want?”  
  
Jordan felt weird for asking that, but he had to. Her emotions were everywhere right now and he didn’t want her to make a mistake, didn’t want her to regret anything in the morning.

There was no hesitance in Lydia as she leaned down, pressing her forehead against his and looking straight into his eyes, her soft palm on his cheek relaxing him. “Yes,” she said, the words hitting his lips, “I’ve always wanted this. Always wanted you....Just you.” She blushed as she said it, and it was the first time he was seeing her blush like this and he knew she was nervous just from saying it.

And all he could think about was the way she kissed him, the way her hands felt on his skin, and how much he wanted it just like she did. “Me too,” he said slowly, bringing his hands up to cup her face and then repeating it again, slower, with more emphasis, just for her. “ _Me. Too_.”

It was all he had to say before she was smiling and kissing him again, and this time he reciprocated fully, letting his hands slide down to her waist as he pulled her flush against him, making a moan escape her lips and his tongue slip through her mouth to caress hers. He could feel her hands snaking down to his shirt again, and they pulled away briefly as she took off his shirt and he helped her out of the wet dress that was clinging to her body like a vice, until he was holding her naked, skin wracked with goosebumps as he warmed her up with kisses down her neck and bare shoulder to her breasts. “God, you’re so beautiful baby,” he whispered against her skin, and he heard her cry out softly as he put his mouth over one breast while his hand cupped her other mound, palming at her nipple with the pad of his thumb and making her pull him into another deep kiss.

“I’m sorry I left,” she breathed when they parted, and he could see tears stinging her eyes. “Everyone around me always leaves...I always lose everyone, a-and I don’t want to lose you too.”

She was crying now, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks and Jordan slowly kissed them away. “Hey. You’re not going to lose me, okay? I’m a phoenix, remember? I’m not going to leave you, _ever._ ”

His words seemed to reassure her because she nodded and kissed him again, and he never wanted to stop kissing her.

“ _I missed you_ ,” he heard her murmur, gazes locking as Jordan took the opportunity to roll them over so that she was underneath him on the bed and he was hovering over her.

She looked like a goddess, an angel, splayed out across his bed, her smooth pale body glowing under the moonlight streaming in through his window.

Jordan’s gaze wouldn’t falter from her, and Lydia blushed shyly, a beautiful light pink staining her cheeks and it was the first he’d ever seen her like that. He kissed a trail up her wrist to her jawline, stopping at the corner of her mouth and whispering, “I missed you so much too. Don’t leave me like that again.”

“I won’t,” she said, eyes and smile reassuring him as she looped her arms around his neck and pushed him on to his back. She straddled his waist and leaned down close to him, her hair creating a curtain around them, secluding them from the outside world. “ _I promise_.”

They kissed again, and this time they didn’t stop kissing, didn’t stop their hands from wandering and exploring every inch of eachother’s skin. And sooner or later, Lydia was gasping each time Jordan pistoned himself up into her heat, crying out every time she snapped her hips to meet his thrusts, their voices and breaths heavy and hoarse from their lovemaking. His head fell into the crook of her neck, nuzzling and taking in that sweet flowery scent of hers while he still could, his thrusts becoming more frenzied as he could feel her heart thumping loudly, _wildly_ , along with his, in some offbeat but beautiful synchronization.

And they continued like that, screaming and panting out their pleasure into the rest of the stormy night.

 

* * *

 

**(2.) your strength**

 

A month later, she asked him to teach her self defense.

Not because she was scared, but because she wanted to feel strong.

“Like Allison,” she said one night, when she asked him to come over to her house after his shift. Her mother was gone for the weekend, so it was just the two of them. And when he offered her if she wanted to learn how to shoot a gun, she shook her head. “Maybe just some hand to hand combat. I’m...not ready for a gun. Yet.”

Her fingers twitched and Jordan immediately put his hand over hers, twining their fingers together as he brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss against each of her digits. “I would love to,” he replied, because there was no way he could deny her request.

They started out simple. He showed her how to throw a punch correctly, how to make a fist properly so she wouldn’t end up shattering her thumb after punching someone in the face. His fingers readjusted her stance, brushed along her sides as he straightened her back, and he could see the beautiful determination on her face as she used him like a punching bag every other night, as she tried to understand the fluidity of her body better, her strengths and her weaknesses in ways so that she could protect herself when no one was there to do so.

And no matter how many times he told himself that he would always protect her, he knew deep down that there would be times he couldn’t.

“I think I’m ready,” she said one night suddenly, when they were at his place watching a movie and eating takeout chinese. “I think I’m ready to learn how to use a gun.”

Jordan looked at her in surprise, because he wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah? Are you sure?”

The look on her face said everything. “I’m sure.”

She wore a reasonable outfit when he took her to a shooting range close by to Beacon Hills the next day, and if Jordan thought her legs looked great in her floral skirts, they looked even better in jeans. He had to tear his gaze away from them as he told her the basic rules on handling a gun, and by the smile on her face he could tell she knew he was blushing. When she repeated the rules and easily enough had them imprinted in her mind, he handed her a pistol and the first few shots, she was shaky, obviously nervous.

“Relax,” Jordan told her, pressing a kiss on her brow as he steadied her arm. “Focus on the goal. _What do you want to achieve?_ ” He smiled at her then. “Which shouldn’t be too hard, Miss future Fields’ Medal winner.”

That brought a smile on Lydia’s lips, and when Jordan let go of her this time, her next few shots were amazing, and the grin she flashed him afterwards made him so happy he could kiss her. And so he did.

After about a week of practicing, Lydia suddenly told him she was going to Mexico.

He was stunned. “Mexico? Why?”

She was already packing, stuffing her dresses into a suitcase when he arrived and broke the news to him. “I just...feel like meeting Chris,” she said, not meeting his gaze, and he knew she was lying.

“I’ll go with you,” he suggested, stepping closer towards her.  
  
“No,” she said, eyes finally locking with his, and he saw a look in her eyes that he had never seen before. She was hiding something from him. And when she saw the suspicious expression cross his features, she gently took her hands in his. “I’ll be fine, Jordan. I...have to do this alone, okay?”  
  
He nodded, his suspicions still not cast aside just yet. “You’re...you’re not leaving again are you?” His voice came out low, barely a whisper.

“No, no, of course not,” Lydia said reassuringly, bringing her hands up to cup his face and look into his eyes. “I’m coming back, Jordan. You and I will never be apart, so don’t worry, okay?”

She smiled at him and pressed her full lips against his, and he wanted to believe her as he kissed her back. After she pulled away, the discussion of the topic ended there and before he knew it, he was driving her to the airport for her flight that same night.

“Call me when you get there?” He said, his hand brushing against her cheek as they stood outside the terminal.

Lydia nodded. “I will. And...try not to get yourself killed when I’m gone?”

Jordan smiled and pressed a kiss against her head. “I promise.”

The intercom sounded at that moment, announcing that all passengers going on the flight to Mexico should proceed through terminal three. “That’s me,” Lydia whispered and Jordan nodded sadly. For the four months they’d been together, he realized that this was the first time he’d have to be away from her completely for two weeks. He didn’t know how he would handle it.

“I’ll miss you,” he told her, hands holding her face softly.

“Me too,” she replied, standing up on her toes to kiss him.

And he wished time could just freeze right then and there, but then their lips parted and all Jordan wanted to say was _I love you_ but instead he said, “I’ll see you soon. Stay safe.”

She smiled. “I will.”

Lydia was only supposed to be there for two weeks, but then three weeks passed and no matter how many times Jordan tried to call her cell, she wouldn’t answer. He called Mr. Argent and found out that she had been there for _two_ weeks, leaving on her last day, just like she had told him, and since then he had no idea where she could possibly be. The possibilities that roamed Jordan’s mind were endless. Did she end up making it to the airport okay? Did she miss her flight? Did she lose her phone?

Was she already in Beacon Hills and just didn’t tell him?  
  
It was a possibility, but _why?_ The cop in him couldn’t figure it out, or maybe he didn’t want to figure it out. He couldn’t stop pacing his apartment, thinking about what Mr. Argent told him on why Lydia had gone to Mexico in the first place.

_She wanted to know how to make a wolfsbane bullet._

It had all started to make sense to Jordan after that. The reason why Lydia wanted him to teach her self defense, and then how to use a gun, it all had to do with why she went to Mexico. Yet, what he couldn’t seem to understand was what did she plan on doing with a wolfsbane bullet?

Before he could even contemplate the reasons, the doorbell rang and he walked towards the front door, opening it without hesitation, and definitely not expecting to see his girlfriend standing there in front of him.

But she was. And she was drenched in blood.

“I killed Peter Hale,” she said, and there was no hesitance in her voice, no trembling over her words. She was as sure as sure could be, and it was very much different from when Jordan had found her soaked from the rain in the cemetery.

 _Very much different_ , not only in that she was soaked in blood instead of rain, but also that she was anything but vulnerable right now.

And just like last time, he didn’t ask questions.

He cleaned her up in his bathroom, wiping the blood off her, realizing that some of it was her blood too because she had cuts and open wounds which he cleaned up before bandaging them. The cop in him wanted to ask questions, wanted to take her down to the police station, wanted to ask her where the body was. But right now, he wasn’t the fair cop. He was her boyfriend and she was the love of his life, and after everything Peter had done to her, he deserved it.

“Where’s...the body?” He finally asked after he had wiped most of the blood off her.

Her eyes met his, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t shed a tear. She showed no remorse and she didn’t have to, because to her what she did was right, and Jordan wasn’t going to tell her otherwise. But he knew she was also nervous, nervous in telling him. So he brought his hands up to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek softly and she leaned into his touch, relaxing a little bit. He then leaned in closer to her and let his lips press against her brow as he nuzzled her hair, taking in the scent of the fresh earth and forest and he knew wherever she had been, it was close to the preserve.

“You can tell me,” he whispered as he looked into her eyes. “I’ll help you...I’ll help you get rid of the body.” The words left his lips without much thought, without thinking what the consequences could be for him for doing something like that, but then again it was ridiculous to be following a law when there were werewolves and kitsunes and other supernatural creatures, including him, running all around town.

And at that moment, he didn’t care what the consequences would be for him because all he cared about was Lydia’s safely. Even if it meant that he had to get his own hands dirty.

They ended up burning the body together deep in the woods. It was the worst way to get rid of a body, he knew that, but they needed something permanent since Peter had come back alive before and they definitely didn’t want that to happen. It took around four hours for the body to scorch to a point where it was mostly just organs, the stench becoming unbearable to the point where Jordan made Lydia go back to the car while he finished what needed to be finished.

He’s killed before. He was in the army, of course he had. But back in the army, they always had moral justifications as to why they had to kill, and maybe that was why it was so easy for Jordan to dig six feet into the ground and lower the remainings of Peter Hale into the earth carefully, because he had this reasons. Peter hurt Lydia, used her, manipulated her both emotionally and physically, and that was enough justifications for Jordan as he covered the grave with dirt once more.

The drive back was silent, and he had one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding Lydia’s hand tightly. When they got back to his apartment, the first thing they did was strip themselves of their clothes and step into the bathroom to wash off the smell of burnt flesh and smoke clinging to their bodies.

They made love in the shower, in some feeble attempt to forget what just happened, when really it wasn’t feeble at all because when Jordan looked into those eyes he had become so familiar with, he saw a glow of contentment in her irises as another orgasm trembled through her. Lydia pulled him into a heated kiss as the hot spray washed over them and while he fucked her through her climax until he was spent himself, before carrying her back to bed. They laid there, curled up into each other while Jordan found himself stroking figure eights into her back, admiring a beauty mark she had on her left shoulder blade while he pressed kisses down her spine.

“Do you think I’m a monster?”

It came out of her unexpectedly and made him stop his ministrations on her skin to look at her. Lydia didn’t meet his gaze and he could see her fingers clenching and unclenching the bed sheets. “No, I don’t,” he told her, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her closer to him as his chin rested on her head.

“Why...why not?” She asked, glancing up at him, looking for reassurance, and an explanation. Something to justify everything.

“Because you’re _strong_ ,” he told her, curling a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Because what he did to you was far worse, because you had to do what you had to do in order to find peace. Because, not all monsters do monstrous things.”

That seemed to settle any doubt Lydia was having, because she moved closer to him silently until her head was resting on his chest and his fingers were caressing her hair until she fell asleep.

And maybe, things were going to be okay after all.

 

* * *

 

**(1.) your brilliance**

 

It was a hot summer in Beacon Hills that year.

Lydia got accepted to all the universities she applied to. Harvard, Princeton, Stanford, you name it. That is, all except for one. The one that she had her heart set on the most.

“Hey, hey, you’ll get in MIT. You’re on the waitlist right? That means you still have a chance,” he told her with an encouraging smile as she continued refreshing her email on her phone, waiting for a response.

She glanced up at him, frowning. “Thanks, but waitlist doesn’t mean automatic acceptance. It’s called waitlist for a reason, Jordan.”

He sighed and sat back on the couch next to her, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder soothingly. “I know, but what college wouldn’t want you? They’d be pretty stupid to not accept my genius banshee.”

She smirked a little. “I’m pretty sure no university wants some girl screaming up the place, no matter how smart she is.” Her smile faltered a little bit after that, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

“You’re absolutely brilliant, Lyds. You’ll do great at whatever university you go to,” he said to her, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “I know it.”  
  
She nodded. “Do...Do you think I can start over like this? After everything I’ve gone through? After everything we’ve gone through?”

“Absolutely,” he told her without a moment’s hesitation. Even after everything they’d been through, together and with the pack, he still wanted her to be able to move on. To go on and do all the amazing things he just knew she was destined to do. Even if that meant her going all the way to Massachusetts and him staying here. “If that’s what you want, then yeah. Of course.”

Lydia looked like she was about to say something else but before she could, her phone buzzed with a new email.

“Oh my god, it’s them—I can’t read this,” she blurted out, thrusting her phone into Jordan’s hands and standing up abruptly, and it was so _unlike_ her to do that he stared at her, gawking  before looking down at her phone, remembering that she was just like any recently graduated high school student at the moment. And he knew she wanted _him_ to give her the good or bad news. 

“I’ll read it.” He opened up the email and read it out loud, “ _Dear Ms. Martin, I write to confirm that your admission to the undergraduate study of Mathematics and Computer Science has been accepted..!”_

The squeal that released from Lydia was inevitable as she nearly tackled Jordan down on to the sofa, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hugged him tightly and Jordan laughed, hugging her back. “I told you they couldn’t deny the smartest banshee I know,” he said to her with a bright grin.

She looked down at him and before he knew it, she was pulling him into a deep kiss, cupping his face as she rocked back and forth on his lap. When they parted for air, she was panting but smiling nonetheless, as their noses touched. “Thank you.” 

He looked up at her questionably, “for what?”  
  
“For always being there for me. For always believing in me, for always—”

Jordan sealed her lips with another searing kiss before she could finish, just because he wanted to, just because he could, leaving the both of them breathless once more as he pulled away, his thumb stroking her temple lovingly. “I didn’t do anything. It was all you. Your hard work, your determination, your intelligence. Just you, sweetheart.”

They sat like that for a while, in the silence, with Lydia in his lap and pressing her face against his neck while Jordan stroked her hair. He was without a doubt happy for her, proud for her, but at the same time there was a pang in his heart that he couldn’t ignore. She was going to be nearly 3,000 miles away from her and he didn’t know how he would deal with waking up with her not next to him anymore, without holding her hand or kissing her or just touching her to know she was there. He kissed her shoulder and before he could stop himself, murmured, “I’ll miss you.”

She seemed to realize where he was going or what he was thinking at least, because she raised her head to look at him in the eyes, gentle hand coming up to cup his face and he leaned into her touch. “I’ll miss you too,” she said, and he could see the tears stinging her eyes even though she was trying her best to smile through it all, just for him. “We’ll talk everyday. Skype, call, text each other. I’ll come back during the holidays….”

Jordan nodded but then buried his face into her shoulder, and before he knew it, he was crying too. In any other situation, he would have reprimanded himself, but right now, he didn’t care and just pulled Lydia closer to him, holding her tightly and never wanting to let her go. “God, I’m sorry,” he apologized when he had better control over himself.

“Don’t be,” she hushed him, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“I’m happy for you, you know that right? Like, so happy.” 

She laughed softly. “I know.”

“You’ll do great, I know it. Ace all your classes, make new friends, fit right in...And who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new, someone better for you than me—”

“Don’t you even dare Jordan Parrish,” she scolded, hitting him playfully and holding him even tighter. “ _Don’t you dare say that._ ”

He managed to let out a chuckle. “Sorry. I just...don’t want to hold you back.”  
  
“You’re not holding me back, you idiot,” she said. “Do I look like the kind of girl who would keep something in my life that would be holding me back?”

He looked up at her like the goddess she was, completely entranced by her, and shook his head, a small smile curving on his lips. “No, ma’am.”

“Good.” She smiled then and hugged him back, and they stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, like one. “ _You and I will never be apart_ ,” she whispered in his ear, warm breath coaxing his ear. “I promise.”

And he believed it.

 

* * *

 

**(0.) your death**

 

Jordan never even told her he loved her yet.

He was running through the preserve, the adrenaline pumping through his body madly as the cold evening breeze blew against his face, running through his hair as he ran through the night, the dark canopies of the trees overshadowing him and blanketing him in cool darkness.  
  
“Lydia!” Jordan called her name over and over again, hearing nothing in return besides his own echo, mocking him as he stumbled through the woods once more. It was all his fault. He couldn’t blame anyone else besides himself, and the pang of guilt was hitting him hard. He knew he should have gone with her or at least stopped her from going, and now if anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

No. He had to find her.

A few weeks after Lydia got accepted into MIT, a werewolf pack had come into Beacon Hills, wreaking havoc along the way, killing innocent people or turning them into werewolves to make their pack bigger, stronger. Scott wanted to confront them, face them and end the situation once and for all, which Jordan had thought would result in nothing but a really bad situation. They needed a plan and when they finally got one, Lydia wanted to help. He respected that, he really did, because he always respected all her decisions, but this time he couldn’t help but feel worried.

_“I can do this, Jordan. I need to be with the pack,” she had told him, determination crossing her features._

_“I know, I know,” he had said, holding her hands in his. “Just...Let me come with you. I can help.”_

_She shook her head, not agreeing to it. “That’s not the plan, remember? You’re back up. Don’t worry. If things get bad, we’ll let you know. I’ll let you know.”_

_He was unrelenting, hesitant. But then she took her hands away from his and cupped his face instead, pressing her sweet lips against his, whispering, “Trust me. I’ll be okay.”_

And maybe it had been the promise in her eyes and his love for her that he let her go _._

“Lydia!” He yelled again, his eyes darting around everywhere, the darkness flashing before his eyes until his whole body froze in place when he heard a familiar whimper.

“J-Jordan…”

“Lydia…?” He rushed towards the sound of the voice, coming to a clearing in the woods and finding her lying in the grass in a pool of blood. Her blood. She reached out towards him and Jordan rushed to her, pulling her into his arms and twining his fingers with her bloody ones, a panicked expression crossing his features as he held her close to him. “No, no, no…This can’t be happening. _No._ You’re going to be okay, Lyds, you’re going to be okay, you hear me?”

He tried scooping her up in his arms and standing up again, to get her to safety, to get her to a _hospital_ , but then he felt her weak hand clinging to his shoulder, stopping him. “S-Stay,” she whispered, eyes fluttering close slightly.

“No, stay awake for me, Lyds, please…” He brushed her hair aside, and the tears were starting to blur his eyes as they slowly streamed down his face, and that was when he finally remembered.

He was a phoenix. His tears could heal. _He could save her._

“Lyds, sweetheart, I can save you... _I’m going to save you_ ,” he said, hope rising in his voice as he held her closer, trying to make himself cry more as the golden tears fell on to her body, on to the wound from the werewolf bite where blood was spurting endlessly, a river of blood. But it wasn’t working. “No, no...why isn’t it working!?” The frustration just made him sob more and it felt like the universe was mocking him, because he had held her so many times before like this, when she had nightmares in the middle of the night, and then he could actually comfort her, actually help her, but now?  
  
Now, he couldn’t do anything. And he hated it, because why did she have to die, and he live forever?

It wasn’t fair.

“Why...W-Why isn’t it working…,” Jordan stuttered, and Lydia sucked in a breath, opening her eyes again and looking up at him.

“Baby, it’s too late,” she said slowly, weakly.

“N-No!” He refused to believe it. “It’s not too late, Lyds. I can still take you to a hospital—I can. I will.”

But Lydia was shaking her head at him, raising her hand gently and touching his cheek. She forced a weak smile. “It’s o-okay, Jordan. It was bound to happen sooner or later…” She sucked in another breath, struggling with her life, and it broke every part of Jordan’s heart seeing her like this, seeing her on the verge of life and death like this. 

Yet, he still shook his head. He wasn’t going to accept this. “You’re not going to die, Lyds. You..can’t die. You have so much ahead of you. No, n-no...You didn’t scream! You’re not going to die, Lyds, you didn’t scream.” He was blurting out anything now, trying to find reasons, trying to find ways to reassure himself.

“J-Jordan—”  
  
“ _You didn’t scream_ ,” he repeated again, looking away from her. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand watching the love of his life slipping away like this.

“Baby, look at me…” He felt both her hands cupping his face now, her touch cold against his burning skin, and he forced himself to look at her through tear stricken eyes. She was smiling and crying too. “M-Maybe banshees don’t scream their own deaths.”

Jordan didn’t want to believe it, his lip quivering. “You don’t know that.”

“But you will soon.”

“ _No_ , neither of us will need to find out. I’m going to take you to a hospital, everything’s going to be okay. _You’re going to be okay_ ,” Jordan kept telling her, but both he and she knew that by the time he got her to the hospital, she wasn’t going to make it. She already lost so much blood. 

“K-Keep talking,” Lydia told him instead, smiling still. “I want your voice to be the last thing I hear…I want your smile to be the last thing I see...Please.”

It was her last request and he felt his arms trembling as he held her. He didn’t know if he could do that. He didn’t know if he could do this. “O-Okay,” he said, voice shaky as he wiped at his eyes and cheeks. “Are you...in pain?" 

She shook her head, but it was hard to believe. “In your arms, I-I’m perfect.” 

At the sound of her words, Jordan lowered his head close to her face, kissing her cheeks and then her lips, before gazing into her glassy eyes. “You said we’d never be apart...And we won’t,” he whispered to her, the silence of the night and the woods surrounding them. “I...talked to Deaton. He’s been telling me about past lives and future lives and how Phoenixes can live for centuries. And reincarnation, and I know it sounds silly—” He paused, stifling down a sob before continuing, “But I’m hopeful. I’m hopeful we’ll meet again, and I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you, Lyds.”

He would wait till the end of time for her, if he had to.

Her head lolled to the side and she sucked in another deep breath, looking up at him disoriented. “J-Jordan….?” 

“I’m here, Lyds, I’m here.” And he knew she was going to leave him soon. “Can you hear me, Lyds?” 

She nodded. 

“I love you,” Jordan finally said, his voice coming out a mere whisper. “I’ve always loved you…”

A smile curved on her lips as she started crying all over again. “I know. I-I’ve just been waiting for you to say it...Better late than never, I suppose?” She let out a weak laugh and it broke him.

Everything was breaking apart, yet she still managed to be the light in the darkness.

“I love you too,” she repeated. “I’ve always loved you and I always will…”

Jordan kissed her again and she shifted, wincing, and he helped her move herself so that he was cradling her in his arms, her face buried in his chest, her blood staining his shirt as he tried to comfort her the most he could in these last few moments. 

He continued to hold her like that, until her heart stopped beating, until her eyes closed for eternity—until the omen of death took her final breath in the arms of the symbol of life.

And then, she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really explain much about Jordan's powers/supernatural aspects within the fic so I'll just leave my theories here:
> 
> \- A Phoenix's tears don't work on a werewolf bite, because werewolf bites are meant to turn you into a werewolf, not kill you. But since Lydia is immune to the bite, it will kill her.  
> \- I love the idea of Jordan being able to live forever and Lydia dying and being reincarnated and Jordan spending the rest of his life looking over and over for her again. (Yes, I'm terrible.) AND TO MAKE IT EVEN WORSE, Jordan has his memories of her but in each new life, Lydia doesn't.  
> \- Banshees don't scream their own death...? The fact that death is inevitable, I find it far more interesting if banshees can't predict their own death, but they can predict everyone else's because it reinforces that idea that death really is inevitable and no one can fully predict it, not even a banshee. I'm all about loopholes in supernatural powers.
> 
>  
> 
> [come talk to me on tumblr](http://lydiasdeputy.tumblr.com)


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